


Stand by You

by therealsIN



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Awkward Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mutual Pining, Protective Arthur Morgan, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Strangers to Lovers, Stubborn Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealsIN/pseuds/therealsIN
Summary: Plans to rob a train and dynamite weren't the only things the Van der Linde gang found at that O'Driscoll camp.Hidden away in a chest, gagged and tied up, Arthur Morgan found you.The sweetest girl who lost everything she has ever known, but she isn't giving up yet. She isn't going to give up on living and making the best of her life, and she definitely isn't giving up on the big bad Arthur Morgan.





	1. Prologue

Prologue

* * *

Living up in Grizzlies West near Lake Isabella wouldn't be your first choice, but there wasn't much you can do when you're on the run from a nasty gang you owe money to. It wasn't necessarily you who owed the money, it was your sick father. To think you used to live in Saint Denis, the so-called high-end city, you used to wear fancy dresses and visit the theatre with your father's friends daughters, but here you are now, wearing a heavy winter coat, worn brown boots, and your dad's old cutter hat. 

The snow was coming down hard as you tugged your father's light grey Shire horse, Fencer, back to the small cottage north of the lake. You pulled the collar of your jacket higher up to keep the harsh cold wind from freezing your face completely. Once you reached the cottage you stabled Fencer and made sure he had enough food and water for the night. You unloaded the small deer hide from his back and collected your satchel with the deer meat you managed to collect. The harsh cold made it hard for you to hunt, but if you were to wait until the storm blows over, you and your father would die from starvation.

You gave Fencer one last pat before running into the small wooden cottage. 

You burst through the door and quickly shut it behind you, closing off the howling wind chasing you. You let out a sigh as you shook off the snow that piled on your small shoulders, "I hate the snow..."

"Pumpkin, is that you?" You heard your father call from the bedroom, followed by a sickening and raspy cough. 

"It's me, daddy!" You shouted as you placed the deer hide down and began to unpack the meat, "I-I got some deer meat, I ain't sure if it's good though. I-I tried!"

You weren't much of a hunter, neither was your father.

Your mother though, she was the best hunter you've ever seen. You tried to learn a thing or two before those bastards got to her and it turns out you really weren't listening when she went over how to track your prey. After her death... it's been hard for both of you. 

With your father sick and on his deathbed, you needed to provide for him while covering your tracks from that gang that's been chasing your family all the way from Saint Denis. 

That's how you ended up by Lake Isabella, an abandoned cabin by the lake. The place was remote enough for no visitors and dangerous enough to buy some time from being followed. You have a couple of days to get your father well enough to travel further up, to keep moving, to be safe.

You quickly started up a fire at the fireplace to start cooking that deer meat. You knelt by the fire as you prepared the meat, you said aloud, "I hope you don't mind it being bland, daddy."

You heard him cough out, "O-Oh, that'll be just fine, pumpkin. You've already done enough. Your momma... well, she would have been proud of ya."

Your gaze lowered down to the flickering flames, "Yeah..."

Your mother was a proud and strong woman, she never has done anything without the best interest of her family. She was what kept you and your father alive when you were all forced to live in the  _wild_. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could bring that woman down. Even at the hardest of times, even when she had that gun against her head, she kept smiling. 

_"You stay strong, pumpkin. Never, ever, give up on yourself. I taught ya everything ya need to know, you'll be okay. Don't you cry, pumpkin, you'll be just fine."_

Your heart clenched as you recalled her last words to you, 'till the end she was strong. 

You let out a soft whimper, "I miss her..."

That was when you heard shuffling behind you and you quickly turned around, you found your father leaning against the doorframe looking sick and weak. You quickly wiped away your tears and ran over to him, scolding him, "Daddy, you can't be movin' around! You're sick! You need to rest."

As you grabbed his arm, he held onto your shoulders, "How can a father rest if his little girl is cryin' all alone?"

Your bottom lip quivered as you let out a weak sigh, "I'm okay, just... just scared is all."

You gently maneuvered him to sit down at the table, you lowered him down until he could sit while you crouched down by him. He reached out and cupped your cheek, gently rubbing small circles against your skin with his thumb, "I am too, pumpkin. But I ain't afraid of those damn O'Driscolls, they can come in 'ere and I'll face 'em head on."

"Daddy..." You mumbled.

He shook his head, "I'm scared for you, pumpkin. You still 'ave a life ahead, you can still make it."

"I am _not_ leaving you." You took his hands off your face and held them tightly in his lap, "You hear me, Daddy? I will not leave you."

He chuckled weakly, "I know you won't... I know. You're as beautiful as your momma, but just as stubborn I'm afraid."

Just as you got up to tend to the food, he grabbed your hand, making you turn to him as he held your hands tightly, "But sometimes pumpkin, you 'ave to _let go_."

You didn't say anything as he stared into your eyes, your heart broke at the sight of him. Pale skin, sunken cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and dry bleeding lips. His health is deteriorating, and there isn't anything in the world you could do but watch him slowly leave this world. The last thing you want to do is to be alone in this terrible cold world.

You gently pulled your hands away from him, "I'll start dinner..."

You turned away from him and you could hear him let out an exhausted sigh, you know you're being unreasonable, but it isn't fair. 

Nothing is fair in this world.

* * *

The night was quiet within the cabin, the storm hasn't blown over but thankfully you managed to fall asleep to the howling wind outside. You were huddled in the bedroom, resting on a makeshift bed of cloths and animal furs while your father slept on the old bed across from you. He was resting soundly, as were you until you woke up to the sound of hollering.

"Collins! Get out 'ere!"

You scrambled up to your feet and peered out of the bedroom unto the living room, you can see the light from torches outside the cabin windows. Quietly, you snuck to the window, peering just a little bit to see a bunch of O'Driscoll boys lingering by the door.

You quickly ducked down to the floor, heart racing, how?

How did they find you?

You quickly scramble back into the bedroom and began to quickly pack everything you can get your hands on. Your hands were shaking as you messily stuffed as much as you can into your bag. As you scrambled to gather everything, your mind raced with plans, you needed to find a way to sneak both you and your father to the stables and escape. 

Head east, lose them in the mountains or- "Pumpkin."

You froze when you felt your father place a hand on your right shoulder. You held your breath as you prayed he wouldn't say what you were thinking. You closed your eyes and he gently pulled you into a hug, "My dear daughter, it's time."

"Daddy, no..." You whimpered, "We can still- I can still-!"

"Pumpkin... let go." 

You slowly turned around to face him, your eyes filled with tears as he smiled softly down at you, "You need to get outta 'ere while you still can. I'll keep 'em distracted while you sneak out with Fencer."

"But-!"

"But nothin'!" He shouted, "You need to go. You have your entire life left, you still have so much to see, yet so little to waste it on tryin' to save your dyin' father."

Leaving father behind didn't feel right, you loved your family, loved your mother, you can't just turn your back on them to survive. What kind of daughter would do that? Your father... your family... it's all you've ever had... what will you do without them?

"Your momma and I will always be with you, pumpkin." He picked up your bag and handed it to you, "Go and don't you give up. Go."

And you did, as much as it pains you to leave your father to die... it wouldn't help if you stayed and died with him. The least you can do is get away and find Colm O'Driscoll and put a bullet in his head for all the suffering he caused your family. 

"I love you, daddy." You gave him a tight squeeze before sneaking out the back, slowly creeping to the stables as your father opened the front door.

He had his hands up, "Now, gentlemen, no need to fuss."

"We're 'ere to collect, old man." One of the men stomped forward.

Your father coughed as he said, "I'm 'fraid I don't got anythin' left, boys."

You snuck into the stables, quietly hushing Fencer as you quickly prepared to leave. 

 "Nothin' left, huh?" One of the men chuckled, "Well, I heard you got a pretty little daughter."

You froze at the words, you quietly peered over the edge of the stable, eyes carefully watching the men surround your father like predators. One of the bigger and fatter men let out a whistle, "Maybe if you lend her to us for a couple of nights, the boss man will forget your little debt. I heard she's a beautiful as 'er momma."

Your father only pressed a smile, "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but you're too late. My little girl up and left me weeks ago, yes she did. Said she ain't gonna be a fool and stick 'round no more."

"Is that so?" The men hummed, "Then, you don't mind if we look around your little shack of yours, eh?"

"I'm tellin' you fellows- s-she ain't 'ere!" Your father cried as one of the men shoved him aside and entered the cabin.

"Peterson, go check in the stables!" One of the men shouted.

You quickly ducked down, heart racing, you had to leave, but your father...

_"But sometimes pumpkin, you 'ave to let go."_

You peered over the stables one last time, eyes instantly locking with your fathers, he gave you a firm nod, his eyes telling you to do what you should've done a long time ago,  _go._

You jumped onto your horse and the moment your father suddenly tackled one of the men, you burst through the stable doors and took off for the woods in the heavy storm. 

"You bastard! There she is! Get 'er!" 

You could hear gunshots from behind you but you didn't dare look back, your heart racing and eyes welling up with tears as you whispered your final goodbye to your father and the family you loved. You guided Fencer into the woods, weaving through the trees to try and lose them in the storm. 

But a shire horse can only run so fast, they had faster horses, they were catching up to you. You can hear them howling as they called out to you, "You ain't goin' anywhere, sweetheart!"

You guided Fencer to the mountains, it was a dangerous decision, only the foolish of people would guide their horse up the slippery mountain slopes in a terrible storm like this one. You almost thought you were free until Fencer let out a cry of pain and came crashing to the ground. One wrong step and both you and Fencer went sliding down the steep snowy hill, "No!"

You slammed against a tree and Fencer fell further down, but you couldn't see him. You let out a strangled cry as pain coursed through your body, your back aching in agonizing pain as you leaned against the tree. You shakily tried to push yourself up, and just as you got to your feet, hands grabbed you and your reflexes kicked in.

You screamed and kicked as much as you could, "She's a feisty one!"

You were shoved into the arms of another man, he held you against his chest as he disgustingly whispered into your ear, breathing down your neck as he panted, "Oh, I'm gonna 'ave some  _real_ fun with you."

They let out howls of laughter as they lifted you up and over their shoulder, the other man following behind the man carrying you and mocking you as you tried to break free. You screamed, "Help! Help me! Please!"

"Ain't nobody gonna help you now!" They laughed as they hauled you back to the cabin.

"You got the bitch?" The third man asked as they returned.

"Yup, you finished 'ere?" The one holding you asked.

"Just about." 

That was when the man threw a lantern at the cabin and the entire place burst into flames. Your eyes widened, your father was nowhere to be seen. You began to struggle, "My... No... Daddy!"

You screamed as you began kicking up again, "Daddy!"

The men laughed, "He can't 'ear you now, sweetheart! Your daddy is roasting in that fire!"

You let out a bloodcurdling scream as you watched the cabin burn to the ground.

Everything.

Everything you knew and loved, burning away into ashes within that cabin.

"I'll..." Rage filled you as you continued to struggle, "I'll kill all of you! I'll kill you!"

"That's what your momma told us, girl. And we had just as much fun with 'er as much as we'll 'ave with you." 


	2. Better than Dynamite and Train Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're rescued from one dangerous gang and brought into another.

Better than Dynamite and Train Plans

* * *

You never realized how much you hated the color green until it was all the people would wear around you. You don't even know how long it has been since your father was killed in that fire and the O'Driscolls took you as payment. They never really let you see the light of day, they would cover your head with a smelly thick sack to keep you from knowing where you were, sometimes they even locked you up in a crate and only gave you two small holes to breathe from, they even addressed you like cattle, just there for their entertainment. 

Being stuck in a crate gave you a lot of time to think for yourself, like how much you missed sleeping on a makeshift bed of furs and clothes, hell, even camping and sleeping out on dirt would be much better than being cramped in a box waiting to be  _used_ again. 

A toy.

A pretty little doll waiting to be played with again.

Like the dolls you used to see in the shops in Saint Denis, wrapped in a box, waiting to be bought and played with, lifelessly staring out into the open and waiting for some little girl or a parent to buy them. Although, in your case, you're waiting for those men to let you out.

Although, there was one man among them that showed you kindness.

His name is Kieran, Kieran Duffy.

He was a stable boy, he cared for the gang's horses. He was timid and always afraid, you pitied him, watching him get bullied by the bigger men and pushed around and threatened. While you, you're left sitting on the lap of man you can't afford to look at, your eyes devoid of life and tired. Truly, the only thing that is keeping you going are the last words of your beloved parents.

You need to stay strong.

Even if you're clinging to the last strings of life, you still have a chance.

And a chance is all you need to put up with all the sexual abuse and harassment from these terrible men. 

You laid on your side, crammed inside the wooden crate as the wagon you were put on with the rest of their things shook and rattled from the bumpy road underneath it. You can hear the drivers aimlessly talking, something about a train and money, but you couldn't care less. What they stole and who they killed didn't matter because it would never lead to your freedom.

You had little to no freedom actually, if you wanted to wash, they didn't let you do it alone. At least three men would watch you and it would lead to you sobbing in the mud as they howled in pleasure around you. 

No matter how hard you scrub, you can never get the disgusting feeling of their touch against your skin. 

That was when the wagon came to a stop and the men started to unload the things off the wagon. Two men pulled your crate and carried you somewhere, you tried to peak through the holes, but all you could see is the sky and shadows. They put you down and you waited, listening to them chatter.

"Hurry up! Bossman wants all of this unpacked when he's here!" 

"Put that dynamite next to the girl's crate!" 

You hear stomping and then something being carefully lowered onto the ground next to you, were they really storing dynamite next to a girl they've been keeping captive for days?

If you find a way out of the crate, they might as well have doomed themselves. 

"Where is that sack of shit? Hey, stable boy!" Someone shouted, "Go give some bread to our pet!"

"I-I-I don't mean any disrespect, b-but I-I think she needs more than just bread..." You can hear Kieran stutter out and it was followed by a cry. 

"You say somethin', boy?"

"N-Nothin'..." 

You waited a while until you heard the lock of the crate unlocking and the lid opened. You squinted your eyes from the blinding sun that you haven't seen in a long time, Kieran stared down at you with a remorseful expression on his face, "M-Miss... I'm sorry, I-!"

You spared him a forced smile, reaching out and taking the piece of bread from his hands, "It's okay, Kieran."

Your voice came out soft and weak, hoarse from now speaking in days, "You did nothin' wrong."

"I-I-I promise you. I'll get you outta here, I swear I will!"

You reached out and placed a hand on his, "Close the lid, Kieran. I don't want them beatin' you for talkin' to me."

He gave you a long stare, brows furrowing and lips quivering as he slowly lowered the lid and locked it once again, encasing you in the darkness you grew familiar to.

You turned back to your side, your right arm sore from lying on it for too long, and began slowly picking small pieces of bread and eating slowly. Who knows when they'll feed you again. Might as well be smart and eat as much and as little as you can.

You were let out again later that night, the crate was unlocked and the lid was opened. A big callous hand reached down and grabbed your arm, yanking you up and roughly pulling you out the crate. You can hear cheers in the distance as the man who grabbed you dragged you over to their little fire, "There she is!"

They whistled, "Pretty thing, ain't she?"

"I think the bruises make nice decorations!"

The man threw you close to the fire and you quickly scrambled back to avoid the flames, you bumped into another man, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Scared of fire?"

He shoved you down onto his lap and you can feel his hand sliding up your thigh, playing with the ragged and dirty hem of the short white nightgown they made you wear. You squirmed at his touch, your face twisted into distress as he trailed his hand higher, the men watching laughed, "Look at 'er squirm!"

The man who held you close whispered in your ear, "You look pretty cold, sweetheart. Why don't the boys and I warm you up?"

Your squirming turned into thrashing, "No! Don't touch me, you pig!"

You reeled your head back and slammed it against his face, he let out a howl of pain before letting you go and grabbing his broken nose. Quickly, you scrambled off of him and made a run for it. You didn't know where the hell you were or where the hell you were going, you just needed to be anywhere but there.

"She's makin' a run for it!" 

"She ain't goin' nowhere!" Another laughed loudly and at that second, just as you were about to break through the edges of the camp near the main gate, you were suddenly pulled to the ground with a thick rope wrapped around you.

You fell face forward, your face met the muddy ground as the cold air slowly began to freeze your skin. You were being dragged back as you screamed, "Listen to 'er squeal! Haha, she's a feisty one!"

You were dragged back to them and one of them sat on your back. You wheezed as they put all their weight against your fragile body, whimpering as they tightly tied up your wrists and ankles. You can smell liquor on the breath of this one as he leaned in close to you, "Can't wait to lay with you, sweetheart."

The man turned you over and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you back to the fire and the group of men as you sobbed and struggled. You were placed over a log, bent over as two of them held your back down against it. 

"Come on boys, let's flip a coin to decide who goes first."

There were whines and cheers as they all gathered behind you and began betting on the coin.

You sobbed uncontrollably as you waited for your inevitable fate. 

* * *

You don't know how many days have passed, but they locked you in your crate again. You were cold, starving and on the brink of death as you quietly waited for them to remember to feed you. Your body was sore from being curled up in the same position for hours, and just as you closed your eyes to rest, you heard gunshots. 

Your eyes snapped open as you heard shouting and hollering. 

"O'Driscolls! You're dead, you sons of bitches!" 

Gunshots were being fired from all directions, the O'Driscolls were being attacked. Hope suddenly filled you, this could be your ticket out.

"I'm pushin' forward!" A deep voice shouted, "Cover me!"

"Stay with Arthur!" Another raspy voice demanded.

You curled into a smaller ball as much as you could, praying a stray bullet won't hit you. 

What felt like endless gunshots finally came to a stop and you can hear men and horses approaching the camp. 

"Arthur, get over here!" A raspy voice shouted before a whistle followed, "Good work, boys. Now, let's tear this place apart!"

There was the sound of grunting and a cry of a horse before the same voice shouted, "Bill, you go search that wagon there. Micah, search that building. Arthur, you take that building to the left. Alright men, quick! Find those detonators, explosives, anything you can. Let's go."

You hear footsteps coming into the building you were in. They walked right past your crate before opening the dynamite crate next to you, "Here... this looks good... what you think, Bill?"

Another pair of footsteps came marching over to the dynamite crate, "Looks fine... smells good."

You can hear them picking up a box of the dynamite before walking away, "Come on."

That was when you kicked the crate you were in and their footsteps stopped, "What was that?"

You kicked the box again as you weakly cried, "Please, help!"

"What the hell?" The deeper voice said, "Bill, you go bring those back to Dutch. I'll check this crate over here."

You heard a pair of footsteps walking out of the building and another walking towards you. 

"Uh... hello?"

"O-Oh god, please help me! You gotta get me outta here!" You exclaimed, "Please!"

"H-Hold on, miss. I'm gonna break the lock." The voice said and after a gunshot and a clang, the lock fell to the floor and the lid of the crate opened. Staring down at you was a man with dirty blond hair and blue eyes. He wore a black worn out hat and a growing beard. He was staring down at you in shock and surprise, he awkwardly cleared his throat, "Miss..."

"(Name) Collins." You croaked out.

"Miss Collins..." He reached out to you, "Let me help you out of there."

You didn't protest as he reached in and helped you up, putting on your feet, only to have you crumble back down from the weakness and soreness throughout your body. He quickly caught you, and only when he had you in his arms did he realize the horrible state you were in. 

Bruises and cuts littered your body, your white dress was more black than white, and your hair was all mangled. You were far too thin and pale for Arthur's comfort. 

"Jesus, what have they done to you?" Arthur mumbled as he supported you up. You shivered when a cold breeze hit your bare skin, " _Everythin'._ "

Arthur quickly looked around the building and found a blanket, he quickly wrapped it around you, "How long have you been in there?"

"I...I don't know..." You whispered, "They killed my family... I-!"

"Christ, well..." Arthur held you close he guided you to the exit, "You're safe now, miss. They're dead."

He guided you out and you were met with the blinding light of the sun and the reflection from the snow. You saw a man sitting on a white horse staring down at you, "Who is this, Arthur?"

"I found her in a small crate. They've been keepin' her locked up in there." Arthur explained.

"You poor soul." The man gave you a pitiful gaze before gesturing for the man holding you, Arthur, to put you up on his horse, "Don't you worry, miss. You are safe, we ain't good men, but we ain't them."

"W-Who... are you?" You asked as you were lifted up onto the back of the man's white horse.

"Dutch Van der Linde." He introduced himself, "And you are?"

You told him your name and he nodded, "Miss Collins, rest assured, you are safe. We will take you back to camp where we have food and shelter. You don't have to be afraid no more."

"The O'Driscolls... they... they killed my family and took me as payment for my father's debt..." 

"You're fine now." Dutch assured you, "No harm will come to you."

That was when Arthur, rode his horse over to you, "You can rest easy now, miss."

"Come on, boys! Let's ride outta here!" Dutch shouted as his horse took off and you weakly held onto his waist. Arthur's horse lingered behind Dutch, you can feel his eyes carefully watching you, he was following so close as if he was ready to catch you from falling off the horse in any second. When your eyes met his own, you quickly looked away, almost ashamed to have met his gaze.

You are grateful you were rescued from the O'Driscolls, but something told you, you're not out of the woods just yet.

You may have escaped one gang, but now you found yourself in the hands of another. 

A few minutes into the ride, Dutch started to ask you questions.

"Where you from, little lady?"

"Saint Denis..." You replied, "But my family has been runnin' from the O'Driscolls since I was a little girl."

"You're a long way from home." Arthur grunted.

"I... I don't have a home left, I'm afraid. They burned my daddy alive and... from what they told me... they raped and killed my momma." Your voice cracked as your heart stung with pain at your own words. 

"You poor thing." Dutch sighed, "This is bad business."

That was when Dutch came to a stop, "Hey, you see that feller? Wasn't he at the camp with Colm?"

You peered over Dutch and through the dark sky and falling snow you can see the shadow of Kieran. Your eyes widened, "That's... That's Kieran."

"You know' im?" Arthur asked as he pulled up next to you.

You nodded, "Yes... he's an O'Driscoll... but-!"

"Leave him to me." Arthur cut you off and took off, chasing after a fleeing Kieran. 

"Wait-!" Your voice drowned in Dutch's voice as he shouted, "Alright, we're heading back. Just bring him alive. He could be useful."

"Okay, you got it." Arthur shouted as he broke off from the group and vanished into the distance. 

You peered over to Dutch, trying to talk to him through the cries of the horses and the harsh wind, "Kieran is a good guy. He... He's the only one who was kind to me."

"I'm sure he was, little lady, but we can't trust 'im. Unlike you, he wasn't trapped in a box for days." Dutch shouted back, "Now, you just rest and we'll be at the camp soon."

When they reached the camp, you were helped off the horse and guided into one of the wooden cabins. Inside were other people, women and a few men huddling near a fire when the door opened.

"Miss Grimshaw, please get this poor girl something to eat. Those damn bastards were keeping her hostage in a box." Dutch huffed as he gently pushed you further into the cabin towards an older woman with brown hair, she gave you a pressed smile and ushered you closer, "Come here, dear. Come, you must be freezing."

"Tilly, Karen, fetch some blankets and clothes for this poor girl." She said, turning to two young women who quickly went to work, "Poor thing, you must've been terrified. Don't you worry now, you're safe with us. We'll take good care of you."

You only nodded as you huddled closer to the fire, "T-Thank you..."

Soon, you had a bowl of food and a new change of clothes. A dress, but it was much better than that dirty old nightgown you wore before. You had a blanket draped over your head and shoulders, holding it close to your neck as you stared at the flickering flames in front of you. 

_"Your momma... well, she would have been proud of ya."_

_" _Don't you cry, pumpkin, you'll be just fine."__

Your bottom lip quivered as you were left in your thoughts, you missed your parents, you missed them so much. They were all you ever knew. You left them when you turned eighteen to start your own life, but when you heard your father got sick, you ran right back to them and jumped back in that life of running from the O'Driscolls. You just wish you could have done more for them...

You should have seen them off with a smile... not your tears, you should have given them a peace of mind that you'll be okay.

"Are you alright?"

You turned to you right and found a woman with tied back black hair and greyish-blue eyes. She gave you a small smile as she took a seat next to you. You quickly wiped away your forming tears and nodded quickly, "Mhm, yes. I'm just... thinkin'."

She nodded, "I understand... It's scary isn't it?"

You licked your dry lips letting out a strangled laugh, "Scary... that's an understatement."

"I know... you probably heard this before..." She trailed off, looking away before lifting her head and your eyes met hers, she took your hands in hers and said, "You _are_ safe. We're a family here... We look out for each other. You don't have to be afraid no more."

Your lips quivered into a weak smile, "Thank you... uh..."

"Abigail." She pulled her hands away.

You introduced yourself to her and she smiled, "It's nice to meet you."

That was when a little boy peered behind Abigail, curiously watching you. You watched as Abigail guided him to move in front of her, "This is my son, Jack."

"Hello..." The boy timidly waved.

"Hey, Jack." You smiled at him.

He quickly hid back behind his mother but continued to watch you curiously. You watched as Abigail turned to scold him for being so rude to the new guest, and as you did, something inside of you sparked. All the worry and doubt vanished as you watched the mother and son. 

Abigail and Jack.

If this gang keeps a child around, then maybe you'll be alright.

Abigail seemed nice enough, and somewhat maybe around your age. You're in your early-mid twenties, but hey, who is counting?

That was when you heard a commotion coming from outside the cabin. You glanced over to the door and heard yelling, you could hear Arthur's voice and... Kieran's.

You walked over to the window of the cabin, peering out to see the men hauling a tied up Kieran into another cabin. You watched as the door closed and Arthur was walking in the opposite direction, you watched him carefully, from afar he looked intimidating. 

Terrifying almost.

He was tall and had broad shoulders, not to mention he seemed to wear a nasty frown on his face most of the time. 

As if he could hear you talking about him in your head, he looked your way and you quickly turned your back to him. Abigail looked at you curiously, "You okay, honey?"

You nodded quickly, walking back over to her and sitting next to her, "I'm fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inbound, bonding with the big bad arthur morgan.


	3. Cold Snow and Hot Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are ordered to give out coffee to the men outside and you learned that the Van der Linde gang is filled with different types of people, the kind, the wise, the strong, and... Micah.

Cold Snow and Hot Coffee

* * *

A few days passed and you helped where you can.

You never saw Arthur again since the day you were rescued and Kieran was taken as hostage. You tried asking a few of the people in the cabin you were in about him, but they told you not to worry about it, they said,  _"That O'Driscoll won't hurt you anymore, darlin'."_

Miss Grimshaw, she seemed to be what kept the entire place in order, she bossed the women around, ordering them to make themselves busy as the men were busy providing for them. You don't really mind being ordered around by her, the work keeps you busy from thinking about your situation. You were rescued from one gang and brought into another, at least this gang didn't keep you locked in a box next to dynamite and would only be let out for sex- you're grateful to at least be using your limbs. 

You hear Grimshaw calling your name and you quickly got up from where you knelt and hurried over to her, "Yes, ma'am?"

She handed you a scratched up grey kettle, "There's a cabin across the way next to the hitching posts for the horses. Bring this to the boys down there and pour them some coffee."

You quickly took the kettle out of her hands and placed it down on the table next to you, "What about the cups, ma'am?"

"They'll have their own." She replied, she turned away for a second before turning back to you and handing you thick cloak, "Come, wear this, the storm may have stopped but it's still cold out there."

She wrapped it around you and pulled the hood over your head, "Now, come back here when you're done."

You opened the door and the cold hit you quickly. You closed the door behind you as you held the kettle close to you carefully, you didn't want to spill anything on the ground or on yourself. As much as a scar from boiling coffee may match the cuts and bruises that already littered your body, you'd rather not want to put yourself through any more agonizing pain. 

You hurried over to the end of the mining camp, making your way towards the cabin by the hitching posts. You passed by beautiful horses, a male white Arabian horse that almost glowed a faint pink from the cold, next to it was a male white-spotted and auburn patched Tennessee Walker and at the end was a female grey and white Appaloosa, her rear was spotted with black dots. You couldn't help but stop to admire these beautiful creatures, only to have yourself reminded of Fencer. 

You didn't see him when you fell off that mountain, he fell further down away from you and the storm blurred your vision. You don't even know if he's still alive... or suffering or dead.

You shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind as you slowly approached the group men, two were gathered by the fire and the other was crouching down on the ground behind the table, skinning a freshly killed deer. 

Slowly, you came to a stop where the snow met the mud, just by the edge of the roof, you meekly called out to them, "H-Hello..."

Quickly, three sets of eyes were set on you and you tensed. You didn't recognize the two by the fire. One of them was a balding middle-aged man with a bushy mustache. The other had a muscular build, long black hair, dark skin and scarring on his face. 

While you didn't recognize them, you did recognize the one kneeling down in front of you, Arthur.

He stared up at you, knife in hand as he held the back of the deer's skin, he was halfway through skinning it when you came walking in. You swallowed air nervously, you knew he was intimidating from afar, but with him holding that knife and hands a covered in blood... you're more than just afraid. You took a cautious step forward and extended your hands, holding out the kettle, "W-Would you like some coffee... sirs?"

The two by the fire looked at each other while Arthur continued to stare at you. Your gaze quickly dropped down to the ground, finding your dirty borrowed shoes from Abigail more interesting than the three men in front of you. You heard shuffling and you found the one with long black hair making his way towards you with a soft smile, "That would be nice. Thank you."

You saw him reach for the kettle but you quickly pulled it back and put it on the table next to you, you held your hands out to him, "No! Please, let me pour it for you, sir!"

He gave you a strange look but complied, he turned to the balding man who gave him a tin cup before giving it to you. You thanked him quietly before putting the cup down on the table and beginning to pour the dark piping hot liquid carefully. Once you filled it a little past halfway, you put the kettle back down and handed the cup to him, "It's hot, please be careful."

"You're that O'Driscoll girl you fellers brought in a few days ago, aren't ya?" The balding man walked over to you.

Before you could answer, Arthur beat you to it, he grunted as he stood up and said, "She ain't an O'Driscoll. She never was, that right?"

He stood by the table, placing the knife down and brushing his hands against his pants, you nodded quickly, "Yes... I was taken by them. My name is (Name) Collins."

"Charles Smith." The one you served coffee to replied, "Call me Charles."

Arthur gestured over to Charles left, to the other man, "That is Mr. Pearson, he's the cook around here."

He gave you a small wave and you smiled at him, awkwardly bowing your head, "Hello."

"And I'm-!" You didn't let him finish, you jumped the gun as you said, "Arthur! I mean... yeah, Arthur. I remember... You did help me out of that box..."

He cleared his throat before letting out a breath, "Uh, yeah."

There was an awkward silence over them before you spoke up again, "Um, would you two like some coffee?"

"Sure." Arthur shrugged as he reached into his satchel and took out a tin cup, he handed it to you and you quickly got to work pouring him a cup. Arthur thanked you quietly before taking one sip and returning to skinning that deer on the ground.

As you poured another cup for Pearson, he asked, "So, how did a gal like you get tied up with men like them O'Driscolls?"

You gave him a pressed smile as you handed him his own cup, "My daddy owed them money, we paid them off but they didn't stop chasing us, kept asking for more. They killed my momma and then when they killed my daddy... they took me."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Charles frowned, "You shouldn't have gone through that."

"It's alright. Even if the debt had nothing to do with me, I got involved because..." You assured him with a quivering smile, "They were my family."

"Family is a very fickle thing, ain't it?" Pearson sighed as he walked over to the corner of the space and sat in a chair. That was when he turned to Arthur and nodded with approval, "Not bad, Mr. Morgan. Not bad at all."

Arthur held out the hide of the deer, handing it off to Pearson before picking up the body and hanging it up. Person rolled it up, "You know, you can trade or sell these anywhere. If you're looking for some good money."

"Yeah, well, just make sure you make a good stew outta these." Arthur huffed as he gestured to the two hanging and fully skinned deers. 

Deciding not to bother the men any further, you picked up the kettle and quietly turned to make your way back to the cabin. That was when Pearson called out to you, "If you still have something left in that kettle, why not hand some coffee out to the fellers in the cabin Lenny and Bill are in?"

You stopped and turned to him, you looked around, clearly confused, "Where... is that exactly?"

"Mr. Morgan, Charles, why don't you two take her over there?"

Arthur just huffed, "Sure."

He walked ahead of you and Charles walked next to you. He was much taller and bigger than you, his scars made him seem very intimidating, but by his demeanor around you and the fact he is walking a pace slower to match your speed, told you he's a good guy. He said, "I saw you looking at the horses before you came up. You have a horse of your own?"

"Oh no." You shook your head, "But, my daddy had a shire horse named Fencer. I... I lost him in the storm when the O'Driscolls chased me."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Charles sighed, "I hope he is alright, wherever he is."

"Me too, Charles." You smiled softly, "I just know he may be doing better than I am."

"Well, you don't have to worry now." Charles assured you, "We're good people. You're safe with us."

"Thank you, really..."

You walked a little past the hitching posts to a cabin with an open fire in front of it. A man was standing by the fire, he had a slim build, black hair, and a dark complexion. He had a mustache that was shaved in the middle but left on the sides. 

Arthur greeted him, "Javier."

"Arthur." He replied.

You gave him a small wave, "Hello."

"Hello there, miss." He smiled at you, "You're looking better."

You recognized him as one of the men who were in on the assault against the O'Driscoll camp they raided. You gave a small smile, "Just trying to make the best of life. Would you like some coffee?"

"Miss Collins here is going around giving us some coffee." Arthur mumbled sarcastically, "Seems she would rather be out here than be inside."

"I-I just want to help." You stuttered quickly, "You men saved me... I... I don't know how else to thank you."

"I was..." Arthur sighed in defeat, "Never mind."

"You accepting our help is more than enough thanks, miss." The man smiled, "Javier Escuella, at your service."

You introduced yourself as you poured him a cup of hot coffee, the steam rising as the liquid met the cold air. You handed him the cup and he thanked you as he took it from you. Arthur then walked over to the door of the cabin and gestured for you to step in. The minute you walked into the small cabin, you were met with the smell of sweat and gunpowder, certainly not your favourite smells. 

On your right were two men by the bunk beds. The younger one, around nineteen years old, had black skin and neat short black hair. He had little facial hair and a soft expression when you locked eyes with him. He gave you a small smile before you tore your eyes away to look at the man sitting on the chair next to him. He was a large heavyset man with brown hair and a bushy beard. And finally the last man to your left, he had shoulder-length, blond hair, as well as a thick, horseshoe mustache. 

That particular man eyed you and you quietly shrunk back, the way he's looking at you... it's almost like you were back in that O'Driscoll camp. 

You bit your lip, quickly tearing your eyes away from that man and collecting your shaky breath. You barely noticed Charles slipping by and standing next to you, arms crossed over his chest and Arthur standing directly behind you. You can still feel the blond man's eyes on you, your eyes dropped to the floor before meeting your shaking hands. 

_"Aren't you the prettiest little thing? I can't wait to taste ya."_

You suddenly felt a hand on your shoulders, "Darlin', move up a bit, won't ya?"

You jumped at the sudden touch and you turned to look over your shoulder, it was just Arthur, and from the way he was looking at you, you knew he felt that frightened jump when he touched your shoulders. You were shaking like a leaf, your eyes wide like a terrified cornered bunny, you felt so small as he towered over you. He pulled his hands away quickly, "It's alright. You're alright."

He raised his hands up to show you he wasn't touching you anymore, and your body instinctively relaxed at the loss of his touch. You swallowed nervously, nodding before turning back to the men, your voice came out shakily as you tried to clear up your trembling voice, "I-I brought some coffee. Would ya'll like some?"

Charles gestured to each man, "That's Lenny, Bill, and Micah. Gentlemen, this is Miss Collins."

"A cup would be nice, Miss Collins." Lenny climbed down from the bunk bed and approached you. He had a soft smile on his face, friendly, as he grabbed his own tin cup and handed it to Charles who gave it to you. 

As you served everyone, sticking up quick and friendly conversations with each of them, you turned to your left and you froze when Micah said, "Mm, you're the O'Driscoll whore, huh?" 

Your lips fell to a tight line as you cautiously reached out and took his cup from him, "I-I'm not-!"

"She isn't an O'Driscoll and she isn't a goddamn whore, Micah." Arthur scoffed behind you, "Show some respect, won't ya?"

"Aw, come on." Micah laughed, "I'm just jokin'."

You shakily held out the cup to him and he took it, putting his hand over yours and tightly keeping your hand in place, "Maybe she ain't a whore... _not yet_."

You yanked your hand away and the cup dropped to the floor, there was absolute silence when the cup hit the ground and spilled the coffee everywhere. Micah hissed, "Now look at what you did! Clean this up, girl!"

You were about to drop to your knees to clean it, but Arthur tightly gripped your arm. You looked up at him but he was glaring at Micah, he was saying anything, just glaring at the man. Micah raised his hands up, "What? I didn't make this mess! Why are you so mad, cowpoke? Mad I disrespected a girl you just met?"

"Micah, stop." Lenny frowned, "You clearly scared 'er. Leave 'er alone."

Arthur's grip loosened on you before guiding you to the door. He took the kettle out of your hands and placed it down on the nearest table, he opened the door and gently pushed you out. 

"There goes her prince charming, savin' the day again!" Micah hollered as Arthur shut the door behind them. 

He let go of you once you were both outside with Javier. He huffed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, he lit it up and sighed. Javier walked over to the two of you, "Let me guess... Micah."

Arthur just grunted and Javier chuckled, "That bastard never learns."

Arthur stuffed his hands into his pockets as he nudged his head in the direction of the main cabin, "You should head back, Miss Grimshaw might be worried about you."

You nodded quickly, "Y-Yeah..."

You quickly shuffled away to the main road when you stopped halfway and turned around to Arthur and Javier, "Um... Thank you."

He stared at you for a moment before turning to the side, mumbling, "It's nothin'."

He wasn't looking at you, just staring off into the distance as you stared at him, but you swear, for a split second you saw his eyes flicker over to you.

Javier gave you a small smile before you quickly turned tail and ran to the cabin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i try to avoid using "(Name)" as much as i can unless it's unavoidable like introductions. im sorry if it bothers ya'll.


End file.
